


ONE SHOT SOLAVELLAN AU

by deactivatedaio



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Solavellan Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:29:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23154832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deactivatedaio/pseuds/deactivatedaio
Summary: An AU one-shot featuring my Lavellan and Solas, inspired by the Beyond the Veil Discord’s smut “Solas/Elvhen Glory/Vibrating Egg” challenge.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Solas, Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan & Solas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	ONE SHOT SOLAVELLAN AU

“What… is it?”

Aeval studied the palm-sized, vaguely-spherical piece of Stormheart, polished smooth and faintly glowing, held aloft in graceful fingers. Doran grinned at her over it.

“It’s for you. I have it on the best authority that it will be… well suited to your particular needs.”

Narrowing her eyes, Aeval plucked it from him. “I… see?” She studied it, then glanced back up at Dorian. “No. I actually don’t see.”

“Hold it in your hand, think of something electrifying, and voila,” he gestured to it with a cupped hand, a few flickers of electricity dancing along his fingertips. “It’s ready for use.”

“Um,” Aeval directed a whisper of energy through the palm that held the stone. When it buzzed in return, she gasped. “Oh my god, Dorian.”

“For. Your. _ Use. _” He raised a single eyebrow and gave her a saucy wink. She hastily stuffed the still-vibrating Stormheart into her belt pouch. 

“Why? Why would you ever even begin to consider getting me something like… this?”

A shrug. “You need to relax. Some self-care is the second-best way. Besides,” Dorian paused meaningfully, turning away to pull a book off of his shelf before shooting a glance over his shoulder, “this particular ‘egg’ will always return your affections, unlike some others I can think of.”

Aeval, torn between a huff and a snorted giggle, could only stick her tongue out at the back of Dorian’s perfectly-coiffed head. “I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

“What, ‘bastard’? Oh wait, I only thought that.”

She sighed. “Dorian, I love you, and that’s why you’re not presently on fire.”

Pivoting, he nodded solemnly at her, then gave her his prettiest, least-authentic smile. “Of course you do! Now go love yourself for a while and work out some of that stress you always seem to carry solely upon furrowed brow.”

With that, she was dismissed.

As her new “stress reliever” pulsed weakly in her pouch, she made her way to her quarters, intent on hiding it deep in her closet where no one would ever find it.

——

Somehow, it ended up in her pack. 

How? Aeval wasn’t certain, exactly. There had been drinking involved with Leliana and Josie, and she had inquired - discreetly, she had thought - I’d they had ever heard of such a thing. Then they were in her quarters, and she hazily recalled digging through her possessions, and then… it was simply there, sitting in her travel pack, when she next opened it to make camp.

Thankfully, Dorian had not come on this particular mission to Emprise du Lion. Unfortunately for her, however, Solas had.

And when she had opened her bag and seen it sitting there, dark and shining and incongruous, Aeval felt her entire face flare with the force of her surprise and blush. She had snapped the bag shut and turned quickly away, but not before lifting her eyes to find both Solas and Iron Bull staring curiously at her.

Now, Aeval was hustling up the side of a mountain, outpacing everyone except Bull. Somewhere far behind, Solas and Cole were conversing about… something, but Bull only marched next to her in cheerful silence.

“So, boss, are we going to make camp at the summit there? Because the sun has officially gone down.”

She looked up to where he pointed, a short plateau jutting out over a steep drop that was just barely accessible via a narrow ledge. “Sure. Yes.” Aeval’s breath puffed, she was light-headed, but she was determined to be securely shut up in her tent before anyone had the opportunity to watch her color in embarrassment again.

“Oh, good, good. And, boss, I was curious,” Bull continued to chat, seemingly no worse for the quick pace she was setting, “what’ve you got in the sack?”

She choked on a surprised wheeze.

“I bet it’s one of Sera’s right?” Bull chuckled, and Aeval shot him a sidelong glance. “She always draws the best stuff.”

Clarity dawned. “Yeah, she does. It’s… hilarious.”

“Can I see it?”

“No! No, no. It’s an inside joke. You wouldn’t get it.”

Aeval scooted along the ledge and fairly leapt onto the flat ground, dropping her pack and bedroll and quickly getting to work setting up her tent. Heavy canvas, treated with some kind of oil, designed to keep out the worst of the wet snow and frigid air. Her lower back screamed at her for the swift hike with all that extra weight, but it would be worth it when she was hidden safely within.

The gentle, oddly-nuanced lilt of voices approached. Aeval hustled to finish her tent while Bull methodically built up a fire.

“You know, I was thinking we could probably make a decent stew from the— boss?” She didn’t answer him. With a flap, Aeval disappeared into her tent, tying it shut as the scrunch of a single set of footsteps in snow became audible just beyond the camp.

——

It was full dark when a soft rustle drew Aeval’s attention. She had dozed off, due mostly to the fact that she had almost run all the way up the side of a mountain - and, though unsure about how long she had been cloistered, Aeval was absolutely certain that she was starving.

It was the silhouette of a plate held just before the tent’s fabric that had her opening it and nothing more. It would be just like Cole to bring her food, after all.

Except it was not Cole.

And, as she stood awkwardly back to allow the figure to duck into her dim tent, it was definitely not Bull. He wouldn’t have been able to fit through the low entryway..

“You did not eat. Cole saved you some. A good thing, too, as Iron Bull polished off the majority.”

Aeval accepted the plate, held it stiffly before her. “Thank you.”

Hands clasped behind him, Solas studied her. “If you are amenable to company while you dine, I would be glad to provide it.”

“Ah,” Aeval looked up from the stodge of brown on the plate. “I’m not quite fit for conversation right now, actually.”

“But you are well? I understand you were quite tired after the hike, but even so, I was…”

“Concerned?” Aeval poked at a hunk of something on the plate. Parsnip? Potato?

“Curious. I am invested in your continued well-being.” His tone was light, almost playful, and Aeval felt her resistance weaken.

She sighed. “Very well. If you’d like, you’re more than welcome to stay.” With that, she settled on her bedroll, picking at her plate and giving it a test bite. It tasted better than it looked.

Before she could gesture him elsewhere, Solas sat across from her, her pack - the reason for her isolation - less than an arm’s length away. It wasn’t a large tent, but he had somehow unerringly chosen the one place she explicitly didn’t want him to be. IT would be fine, she reassured herself. Why would he look in her pack? Of course he wouldn't.

She took another bite to distract herself.

He seemed not to notice her discomfiture. “During our climb, Cole made some interesting observations about the next steps in our journey. Shall I relay them while you dine?”

“By all means.”

Conversation had always been one of Aeval’s weaknesses. She loved to talk to people, to listen to them, and would often sneak out of bed and up to the grand fire in the center of her clan’s camp in order to soak up the stories being told that the adults reserved for after the children had all retired for the night. And Solas was so clever with words, weaving them like music, until Aeval found herself caught up in captivating discourse, her dinner plate mostly empty and long forgotten.

Bull’s thunderous snore startled them both, reminding her that it was likely quite late. 

“I didn’t realize the hour. I already napped a while earlier, so I doubt I’ll sleep any more tonight. You should rest.” She shoves the plate aside, came to her knees as if to rise. Solas merely offered her a graceful half-shrug.

“Any time with you is time well spent, though I suppose you’re right. If you’re worried about sleep, I have a recipe for a tincture that will help. Do you have Prophet's Laurel?”

“Yes, in my bag, but…”

Too late. The moment the words left her lips he’d turned, reaches for her pack. Then went very still.

“Hm.”

Aeval was immediately uncomfortably hot and prickly with embarrassment. “It isn’t mine," she stammered without thinking, then cringed.

“Oh?”

“Well, no. It is. But I didn’t pack it on purpose. It was a gift, of sorts.”

“A gift?”

When he faced her again, there it was, resting in his palm. The only reason Aeval didn’t perish right then was the fact that she hadn’t actually used it yet. She could, if she tried really, _really_ hard, pretend it was just a pretty rock.

“And then I think either Leliana or Josie hid it in my pack as some kind of a joke.”

“There is,” he said softly, watching her intently, “only one reason someone would give such an… intimate gift to another.”

Aeval opened her mouth, then paused, closing it again. She considered him thoughtfully. “Wait. Are you jealous?”

He frowned. “Surprised, perhaps. I had assumed… well. Evidently, I assumed incorrectly.”

“The reason for the gift, maybe, but the intentions of the person who gave it are not what you think. Dorian gave it to me, partly in jest. I never sought it out on my own.” Aeval left out the other part. No use furthering what was already a contentious relationship between the love of her life and the man who sat next to her.

“And yet, here it is.” He lifted it.

Another blush, more heat, but this time it was from something other than embarrassment. “I never had any intention of bringing it. I haven’t even laid eyes on it since Dorian gave it to me until today.”

The way he studied her, almost as if she were some impossible mystery, a puzzle to solve for which he lacked the right pieces, made the back of her neck tingle.

“That explains why you stayed secreted away all evening, at least.”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate to just have it.. laying about in my pack, considering.” She trailed off.

“Considering what, vhenan?”

“You’re really going to make me say it.” Aeval pinched the bridge of her nose, shut her eyes briefly. “What if Bull caught sight of it? Or, perish the thought, Cole?” She stared at her hands in her lap, mortified at the thought. _ Cole would have so many questions - and Bull, so many jokes. _She shuddered.

“Or I?”

While she had been speaking, Solas had so slowly closed the distance between them that she didn’t realize until she lifted her eyes again and found him kneeling before her. He still held the oblong sphere in a loose grasp.

“Especially you.”

His words were measured and quiet. “If you worry I would judge you for using it, you need not.”

“Well, thanks, but I haven’t.” She kept her gaze averted, locked on the gentle flicker of the lamp in the corner of her tent. 

He did not.

“Hm.” A glimmer drew her attention back to him, to the object he held. It began to hum. “But would you like to?”

Aeval couldn’t breathe, only gape at him in stunned silence. “Er-”

An almost-imperceptible smile curled at the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps the problem is in the how, not the why.” He lifted his hand, ran the Stornheart along her collarbone. It was cold and smooth, vibrating lightly, and the suddenness of the sensation made her gasp. “You need to become familiar with its operation.”

It was not a question, but still, she answered. “Yes.”

If her stare hadn’t been riveted on him, Aeval would have missed the flash of fierce satisfaction behind his eyes, the sharp grin that disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

The stone stroked downward along her sternum, warming by degrees from the heat of her skin. When it reached the barrier of her tunic’s loose neckline, she removed it, tossing the whole garment aside in one uninterrupted motion. Awkward and still, Aeval sat as the buzzing stone slid over the crest of one breast, and it dawned on her that Solas’s skills as a painter served him well in other areas, too.

It passed over her nipple and she arched, drawing another smile from him. He mimicked the motion on the other side, and on a swift intake of breath, Aeval leaned back. She worried that, if she spoke, she would break the fragile spell that had been cast within the confines of her tent, or wake herself from what would be, yet again, only a dream.

The brush of his fingers over her hip was no dream, though - he held her there with his free hand, coaxing her farther back even as he leaned over her, drew abstract patterns along her ribcage and stomach with the electrified stone. Before she gave herself time to think through her actions, Aeval had hooked the waist of her leather breeches and tugged them off, kicking them aside. 

When the pulse of the Stormheart continued to travel lower, past her navel and further still, she groaned. Then her hands went around his neck and she pulled him down until he was bowed over her, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder. 

His chuckle fanned over her temple. Settling more comfortably at her side, it took no persuasion at all to get her to make room for his hand at the juncture of her thighs, for them to part and let him between. And it took nothing more for her hips to tilt, giving him access to where she wanted him most.

But instead, the vibrations moved along the seam between thigh and pelvis, down and up again, then around to the other side. He made concentric circles between her legs, each one barely smaller than the last, drawing out the tension building there until Aeval wanted to scream. The entire time, he grasped her hip in a firm grip, keeping her still with only enough force to hint that more would be no difficulty.

She panted, every breath ending on a stifled moan or a choked sob. She twitched, every muscle in her body clenched, until finally, _ finally _, the circular motion reached its culmination.

The gentle hum got stronger, and the vibrations increased in intensity as he drew it up along her slit. It hit her clit - she bucked and couldn’t stop the groan from ripping free.

Mercilessly, he stroked, holding her in place when she tried to shy from the intensity of the sensation, to pull away for even a second’s respite. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders and she threw her head back. Every sense was honed in on that one spot, every nerve in her body connected to where the stone vibrated. No sight, no sound, nothing except _ feel _. Even her voice was stolen, her moans noiseless, husky gasps.

The hand at her hip joined its partner. If his lips at her ear formed words, she couldn’t decipher them, but her body reached all the same. They were entreaties, or maybe commands, to which she readily acquiesced. Then, he slipped two fingers into her, slicking them in and out in rapid strokes. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes flew open, and everything inside her erupted.

Her own shout filled the tent. He didn’t stop, didn’t remove the stone from where it pressed against sensitive flesh, didn’t cease the motion and curl of his fingers inside her until she heard herself whimper his name.

It could have been a plea to cease, or one to continue, but Aeval was past knowing. He had pushed her beyond her limits. When he finally drew away, quieted the stone in his grip and pulled himself upright, Aeval let him go - and immediately mourned the loss of the weight of him.

She opened one eye, suddenly shy again, acutely aware of her own nudity - and the lack of his. He waited as she shoved up into a sitting position, gathering the blanket at her feet and wrapping it around herself.

“Solas, I --” she started, but he reached for her, took her chin lightly in his hand.

His kiss was tender, soft, and somehow, heartbreaking.

“Goodnight, vhenan. Thank you.” He stood, looked down at her, and she wished desperately that he would smile, return to her side, anything that would banish the sudden, heavy dread in her stomach. But he only turned, opening the fall of her tent’s opening just enough to slip through.

Before he disappeared into the dark, he glanced back at her. Then, he was gone.


End file.
